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More frustrated and tired than I've been at any time during the last three weeks.

Not a good kind of tired, either.

Maybe I just miss the endorphins from running - between the weather, work, the horse and the need to occasionally sleep longer than until 6 am, no morning runs since Monday.

The greater part of the problem however is that I'm still having a hard time re-adjusting to M. Constantly having to restrain myself in minor or major ways, instead of just being able to go ahead and do things, if they need to be done. I had to work hard during her absence, but I had results to show (and be proud of) for my effort. I miss that satisfaction.

And this this friend-cum-boss thing, which I mostly tend to regard as one of the perks of the job, on the other hand sometimes unnecessarily complicates things in really annoying ways. Why is it so hard for her to simply let me do my work? I'm not trying to put her under any obligation, I'm not trying to make her feel guilty, she's perfectly free to just stand by and do nothing if she feels like it. Really. I'm not offended, I won't think she's lazy, that she's exploiting me, or whatever guilt trip she's putting herself through.

I don't mind manual work, I don't mind getting my hands dirty. Whatever issues she has in this respect (granted she's smaller than I, and I'm not particularly tall to begin with, so I can see that for her it's probably not much fun hauling heavy art books around), I don't have them. More often than not I actually enjoy that part of the job, because it helps me work off energy.

I always liked doing things with my hands, seeing the results of my work; I like being in touch with things, touching things. Seeing as an academic job is now pretty much out of the question, given the choice between some mind-numbing office-job or one that would force me to wear a fake pasted on smile and be nice to people I'd rather slap (as it is now, I have a lot of regular customers who are friendly and polite, and, as I see it, and compared to the job before this one, quite a lot of leeway in how I chose to treat them - there's still an element of choice, and naturalness.) and something more manual, I'd choose the latter.

I've told her, again and again, so why can't she get it into her head that I actually don't mind unpacking palettes, hauling them into the yard, the more physical stuff? I like it.

I like her too, but sometimes she drives me absolutely insane.



solitary summer

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